


The Bigger Picture

by missmissa85



Category: Daredevil (TV), Iron Fist (TV), Jessica Jones (TV), Luke Cage (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 11:17:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14104191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmissa85/pseuds/missmissa85
Summary: Peter Parker has gotten the attention of heroes who watch over the world.  He didn't expect to find so many heroes so close to home.





	1. Chapter 1

         She heard a thump from the fire escape followed by the strangled sound of Danny Rand calling her name.

         “Sweet Christmas,” Luke muttered as he looked over his shoulder from their spot on the couch.

         Claire rushed to the window and was surprised to find Danny holding a body over his shoulder.

         “What the hell?”

         “It’s Spider-Man.  He’s been shot.  I didn’t know where else to go,” Danny sputtered quickly.

         “Get him on the table,” Claire ordered as Luke helped Danny get the red and blue burden into the apartment.

         She swore when she saw the bloodied front of the costume.  She couldn’t even see how many separate wounds he had. 

         “This suit looks more advanced than anything I’ve dealt with before,” she said, taking her bag from Luke.  “Is it going to explode if I take it off of him?”

         “I don’t know.  I hope not,” Danny replied, eyes wide.

         “Here goes nothing,” she muttered, cutting the suit open from one of the holes left by the bullets.

         “What was Spider-Man doing in Harlem?  For that matter, what were you doing in Harlem?” Luke asked Danny.

         “I was following Turk Barrett.  I think Spider-Man was following The Punisher.  It sort of spiraled out of control when they all met up.”

         Spider-Man gasped and gurgled as compulsions twisted his body.  “Shut up and help me!” Claire yelled at them.  “Hold him down.  Get that mask off.”

         Luke held down Spider-Man’s legs as Danny pulled off the face concealing mask.

         “Oh my God, he’s a _kid_ ,” Luke breathed.

         “He’s got blood coming out of his mouth,” Claire said, maintaining her composure despite the shock of seeing the young man beneath the mask.  “He’s got a punctured lung.  I can remove the bullets, but he will bleed out.  He needs a hospital.”

         “We can’t,” Luke protested.  “The kid wears a mask. We can’t out him.”

         “He is going to die.”

         “No, he isn’t,” Danny said, still grasping the mask tightly in his hand.  “Take the bullets out and I can fix him.”

         “Fix him?  When exactly did you become a pulmonary surgeon?”

         “I can use the Fist,” Danny replied breathlessly.  “My chi will heal him.  I’ve done it before with Colleen.  I mean, I passed out for a couple of days afterward, but she was fine.”

         “Danny, you can’t.”

         “He’s right, he can,” Claire said, pushing the suit away and pulling instruments from her bag.  “I watched him burn poison out of Colleen’s blood.  He can do it.”

         “You’re both insane,” Luke said, throwing up his hands.

         “Sweetheart, what’s your name?” Claire asked the young man as she pulled on her gloves.

         “P-p-p-peter,” he choked out, his eyes unfocused.

         “Alright, Pete, this is gonna hurt, so I need you to bite down on this towel and try not to scream,” she said, placing the towel between his chattering teeth.  “Luke, you _have_ to hold him down.  Danny, summon your chi or whatever the hell it is you do.  Let’s go.”

         She pushed past Peter’s muffled screams as she pulled three bullets out of his stomach.  He passed out as she pulled the last bullet and looked at Danny, whose face was calm and hand was glowing golden.

         “Do your thing, Danny,” she said quietly, backing away.

         She watched as Danny placed his hand over the seeping wounds and they closed, staunching the flow of Peter’s lifeblood.  The young man’s breathing evened out and his face eased to peacefulness.  Danny stumbled back suddenly and only Luke’s quick intervention kept him from smacking into the floor.  Luke practically dragged the blond man to the couch.

         Luke sighed deeply.  “They’re gonna need some food when they wake up.”

         “How do you figure?” Claire asked, tossing her gloves and cleaning her tools.

         “Well, the kid is a teenaged boy and eating one of the two things teenaged boys are experts at, and Danny will need the energy to summon his chi.”

         “Summon his chi?”

         “I didn’t say it, he did,” Luke said, pulling on his hoodie.

         “Of course he did.  Bring me back empanadas,” she called after him from the kitchen as she washed her hands.

         “Yes, ma’am,” Luke called back.

* * *

 

         Peter groaned and blinked up at the lights above his head.  He then realized he was looking at the lights with his eyes and not through the sensors in his mask.  He reached up and felt his face.

         “Where’s my mask?” he asked, panicking.

         “Right here,” a dark-skinned woman said, tossing him the mask.  “Rest of your get-up is kind of a mess, though.”

         Peter slowly sat up and took in his appearance.  He remembered the blow he took to the head, and he remembered the excruciating pain of the bullets tearing through his flesh, and he remembered a man with a glowing hand punching Punisher across the alley before carrying Peter away from the scene.  He had absolutely no memory of how he got to the apartment or how his torso was clear of any wounds.  Even his head wasn’t throbbing as it should be.  His mask was the only part of his suit that seemed to be intact.

         “These sweatpants are Danny’s, so they’ll probably fit you.  The hoodie is going to swallow you whole, though,” the woman said, holding out the folded clothes to him.  “I’m Claire, by the way.”

         “I’m, uh, I’m Peter,” he said reluctantly, taking the clothes from her.

         “I know,” she replied.  “You told us when you were bleeding to death.”

         “Oh.  Right.  How, exactly, am I not still, you know…?”

         “I’m a nurse,” Claire explained.  “Danny over here was at whatever showdown you got yourself involved in and brought you to me.  I couldn’t do much other than take out the bullets, so Danny used his…hand to heal you.”

         Peter’s eyebrows arched upward.  “His hand?”

         Claire chuckled and shook her head.  “Yeah.  Danny has some unique abilities as well as some special skills,” she told him.

         “Does his hand glow?” Peter asked.

         She nodded.  “Yeah.  He summons his chi and it glows before he punches someone or heals someone.  The healing takes a lot out of him as you can see from the fact that he’s passed out on my couch.”

         “I thought I was imagining things,” Peter said, pushing himself off the table.  “Do you mind?”

         Claire rolled her eyes.  “If it protects your delicate modesty, sure,” she replied, turning around.

         “So, was Danny, like, born with the glowing hand, or what?” Peter asked, peeling off his ruined suit.

         “No, he trained in martial arts at this monastery after he was in a plane crash when was ten, I think.  The glowing fist thing happened after he punched a dragon in the chest.”

         “Is that a metaphor?” Peter asked, pulling on the sweatpants.

         “Not according to him.”

         “Huh,” Peter said, pulling the hoodie up over his shoulders.  Claire had been right about the fit.  It was almost three times his size.  It was also riddled with holes.  “What…are these bullet holes?”

         “Yeah, that’s Luke’s.  He gets shot at a lot,” Claire replied, turning around and pulling out a dining chair to sit down on.

         Peter blinked.  “Is…he okay?”

         “Yeah, he’s fine.  He’s out getting some food.  He’ll have questions when he gets back.  He was a sheriff back in Georgia.  Once a cop, always a cop.”

         “That is very true,” a deep voice said as the front door opened and closed.  “Got your empanadas.”

         “My man,” Claire said, taking one of the bags in his hands to the kitchen area.

         “Yo, Danny! Got the pork dumplings you like,” the man, whom Peter suspected must be Luke, shouted at the disheveled blond man on the couch.

         Danny started awake and made an incoherent noise as Luke dropped a sack in his lap.  “Didn’t know what you would want, so I got you one of everything.  Danny can eat what you don’t.”

         “Oh.  Thank you, uh, Luke?”

         “Yeah, I’m Luke,” he said.  “It’s nice to meet you, Peter.  How about you tell us what the hell you were doing in Harlem?”

         “Luke, let the poor kid eat before you interrogate him,” Claire said, coming back into the room with her food on a plate.  “Seriously, though, how did you wind up in Harlem?  I’ve only heard of you operating in Queens and Midtown.”

         Luke cocked and eyebrow at her and she pulled a face in response.  “What?  Mom sends me clips on Facebook all the time.”

         “Well,” Peter began, making his way to the couch with his food still in hand, “I was following this guy I know.  He’s a burglar, but he never hurts anybody.  I was about to stop him when The Punisher showed up—kind of surprised me because I thought he was dead—and started whaling on Davis for information.  I was about to stop him when he gave up the name.”

         “Turk Barrett,” Danny supplied groggily.  “Where are the chopsticks?”

         “They’re in your hand, Danny,” Claire told him gently.

         “Oh,” Danny said in surprise as he looked at the device in his right hand.

         Luke rolled his eyes.  “And why were _you_ following Turk Barrett?”

         “I always follow Turk,” Danny replied, poking unsuccessfully into the box of food.  “He’s usually up to something.  The first time I stopped him selling a gun, he asked me if I was the new Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.  I guess he and Matt had a lot of run-ins.”

         “Wait,” Peter said, grin splitting his face, “you guys know Daredevil?  Could I meet him?”

         He instantly knew he’d crossed some sort of line as the mood in the room instantly darkened.  Danny frowned into his dumplings and Claire looked away, biting her lip. Luke glared at him before suddenly getting up and leaving the room.

         “I-I didn’t mean to…”

         Luke tossed a pair of old sneakers onto the couch next to Peter.  “Put those on.  We’re taking a trip to Hell’s Kitchen.  Danny, you’re coming too.”


	2. Chapter 2

         Tony groaned as he rolled over and picked up his phone. 

“What the hell, Happy?” he said into his phone.

“Kid’s missing,” came Happy’s curt reply.

Tony was suddenly very awake and grateful that he was in upstate New York instead of Malibu, although he would have preferred not to be sleeping without his fiancée.

“How, exactly, is the kid missing?” Tony asked.

“The suit registered he was in distress and then it stopped transmitting around 145th and Convent,” Happy explained.  “There’s a crime scene and a dead criminal, but no Spider-Man.”

Tony blinked several times at what Happy had told him.  “Did you say 145th?  In New York?”

“Yeah.”

“What the hell was he doing in Harlem?”

“Wish I knew the answer to that myself, Boss,” Happy replied.  “Kid lost his phone in the Park, so we can’t track him with that, either.  I’m assuming you have some way to track your tech in the suit?”

“Yep,” Tony answered, pulling on a t-shirt and pants before heading downstairs.

“Another thing,” Happy added reluctantly, “his aunt keeps calling me.”

Tony froze in his track.  “Say that again.”

“His aunt has my number,” Happy said slowly.  “Apparently she knows and she is not happy about it.  At all.”

Tony groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. This was why he was never going to have kids.  “Go make sure his aunt doesn’t do anything crazy.”

“But—”

“You lost him.  This is the price you pay,” Tony told him.  “I’ll let you know when I find him.”

Tony ended the call and tossed the phone before stepping onto the platform as his suit surrounded him.

“Evening, boss.  Or should I say morning?”

“Whatever makes you happy, Friday,” Tony replied.  “Gotta find Itsy-Bitsy.  Might still be somewhere around Harlem.”

Friday ran the search as Tony headed south.  He found traffic cam footage of the crime scene Happy had described.  An angry man in black was having a “discussion” with an African-American man.  Spider-Man intervened and then the shooting started.  Peter had obviously been hit and then someone else entered the fray, punching the man in black away and carrying Peter away from the scene.  Tony wondered if he was still asleep.  He could have sworn the man’s fist was glowing.

“Peter hasn’t shown up in any hospitals has he?”

“No, boss.”

“Friday, run facial rec on the guys at the scene.”

The reports appeared on the HUD within moments and Tony practically choked in surprise.  One of them was a career criminal, the other was Frank Castle a.k.a. The Punisher who was supposedly dead, and the last one to appear was Danny Rand.

“Friday, why is Boy Billionaire’s hand glowing?”

“It’s not clear.”

Tony rolled his eyes at his own AI’s lack of enthusiasm.  He landed on the roof of the building where Peter’s suit, at least, was located.  Iron Man’s presence would cause a significant stir in Harlem, so he stepped out of the suit and left it in security mode.  He followed the indicator on his wrist down to the fourth floor, apartment B.  Not knowing what else to do, he knocked.

A woman opened the door as wide as the chain would allow.  She stared at him for a long moment before simply saying, “Shit,” and closing the door.

“Uh…” Tony began before the door opened all the way and the woman motioned him inside.

“Makes sense that you’re here,” the woman said as she walked further into the apartment.  “I figured the kid didn’t have the resources for a suit like this on his own.”

The mishmash of decorating styles had almost distracted him, but then his eyes fell on the ruined suit and the blood stains on the kitchen table.

“Where is he?”

“He’s fine,” the woman said. “My, uh, boyfriend took him on a field trip to show him what happens when you put on a costume and fight crime in this city.”

Tony glared at her. “That’s a lot of blood on your table. He wouldn’t be walking around.”

“I’m a nurse—“

“He needs a hospital. Where is he?”

She huffed and rolled her eyes. “If you’d shut up and let me finish, I would tell you that a friend of mine has some special abilities and healed him.”

Tony barked a laugh. “You need to start telling me the truth. Right now.”

The woman smiled at him with false sweetness. “Why? Because Tony Stark is going to kill me in my own living room? That would be a mistake.” She picked up a cell phone from the coffee table and waited for the video call to go through. “Hey, guys, you need to get your asses back here now.”

* * *

 

         The ride back to Queens from the ferry in a set of gift shop pajamas was not nearly as awkward as the ride downtown sandwiched between Luke and Danny.  Luke was a big man.  Peter had never met Thor, but he couldn’t imagine that he was much bigger than Luke, despite what everyone said. Danny was slightly more lucid than he had been earlier, but he still looked like a strung-out porn star from the seventies.  The Kelly-green track suit was definitely not a good look.

         Luke didn’t even say anything, he just got up and Peter knew he was meant to follow.  They ascended the steps and made a sad procession a couple of blocks down to a massive pile of rubble cordoned off at the sidewalk.

         “Put your hood up,” Danny told him gently as he pulled up the hood of his own jacket.  “You wear a mask because you don’t want people to know who you are.  And people around here know Luke Cage.”

         Peter pulled up the oversized hood and said, “Why are we here?”

         “You wanted to meet The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen,” Luke began, “here he is.”

         Peter gasped at the implication.  “Is he…?”

         “He’s dead,” Danny said, “buried under all of that.”

         “He wore a costume, hid his face, kept his secrets,” Luke said, staring at the pile of rubble.  “And he died defending this city from those who would have destroyed it.  You’ve been running around in a mask and some fancy suit.  I’m not denying you’ve helped people, but are you ready to end up like this?”

         Peter blinked in surprise.  “I’m sorry.  Is this a scared straight lecture?”

         “You got yourself shot by The Punisher.  Somebody needs to give you a lecture.”

         “The Punisher didn’t shoot me.”

         “The Punisher didn’t shoot him.”

         “What?  That’s not what you said earlier,” Luke said to Danny.

         “No, I said the Punisher was there and the kid got shot,” Danny corrected.  “I’m not Matt.  I can’t sense people on rooftops.”

         “Yeah, the shots came from a long way away,” Peter added.  “I don’t even think Punisher had a gun.”

         “I didn’t.  Not one that I planned on using anyway.”

         They all turned to see the dour, black-clothed man approaching them with his hood up.  Luke and Danny both instinctively stepped in front of Peter, and Peter was inclined to let them.  The Punisher hadn’t shot him, but he had hit Peter on the head so hard he saw stars.

         “What the hell are you doing here?” Luke demanded.

         “Paying my respects.  I knew him longer than either of you clowns did.”

         “That’s because he sent you to jail,” Luke pointed out.

         “Whatever, man.  How are you not dead, kid?”

         “I’m not totally sure on that,” Peter replied, warily eyeing Danny.  “What were you doing in Queens?”

         “I got friends there.”

         “You have friends?” Danny asked dubiously.

         Punisher ignored them.  “They got broken into.  I found the asshole who did it—”

         “And beat him up,” Peter interjected.

         “And he told me about an arms deal going down in Harlem.  Thought I’d check it out.”

         “You thought you’d check it out?”

         “It’s not like I have your number, big man.”

         Luke’s fists clenched at his sides and he took a step forward before Danny extended a hand to stop him.  “Look, do you have any idea who was doing the shooting?”

         Punisher shook his head.  “Could have probably found their perch if you hadn’t punched me in the chest.  I’d probably be dead without body armor.”

         “Sorry,” Danny said sheepishly.  “You just don’t really have a reputation for restraint and he was bleeding to death.”

         “Do you have _any_ idea who’s started shooting in Harlem?” Luke interjected.

         Punisher shook his head.  “Nah. Barrett was gone before I could get any answers.”

         “What do you mean ‘gone?’” Danny asked, his head tilted slightly.

         “Barrett’s dead, kid,” Punisher replied flatly.

         Luke and Danny both seemed taken aback by the news.  Danny looked over at Luke and said, “I’m sorry.”

         “Not your fault, Danny,” Luke told him.  “Turk Barrett’s been making bad decisions his entire life.  They were bound to catch up with him eventually.  Thank you for the information.  We can handle it from here.”

         “You’re gonna handle a trained sniper taking out criminals and superheroes alike all by yourselves?”

         “Since we now know it’s not you, yes,” Luke replied matter-of-factly.

         “Have it your way, big man,” Punisher said before turning back toward the wreck of a building.  “See you around, Red.”

         The Punisher walked into the darkness from which he seemed to have come, and Peter looked back at the remains of Midland Circle.  “So…this is the kind of stuff you deal with every day?”

         “Buildings don’t come down on top of us every day, but guns and drugs?  Yeah, we deal with that every day,” Luke said.  “That sound like something you _actually_ want to get involved with?  Because that’s the path you’re on.”

         “I, uh, I…” Peter stumbled.

         He was saved by the sound of Luke’s phone ringing.  The man fished it out of the pocket of his hoodie and answered the video call.

         “Hey, guys, you need to get your asses back here right now,” Claire’s voice said before Luke even had a chance to say hello.

         Luke adjusted the screen so Peter could see it and he instantly understood the urgency.  Standing next to Claire and looking very annoyed about it was Tony Stark.

         “Field trip’s over, Pete.  Get your ass back here now.”

* * *

 

“You want some coffee? Tea? Something stronger?”

“Uh, no,” Tony replied, feeling suddenly awkward in this woman’s apartment now that he’d seen Peter was fine. “Who are you, anyway?”

The woman chuckled as she filled the kettle with water. “I’m Claire. I imagine it’s probably below your notice, but there are a number of people around here who try to make this a better, safer place to live. Sometimes they get hurt, and I help them.”

“If you’re talking about Luke Cage, the man you called, I know who he is,” Tony replied, trying not to grit his teeth.

“Did you find out about him before or after he threw down in the street with a guy in a Hammer-Tech suit?” Claire asked with a hand on her hip and a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

         Tony’s mouth twisted, knowing the direction the conversation was about to go. “After,” he finally admitted.

         Claire nodded.  “Right.  So you only found out about Luke _after_ something _you_ were responsible for got involved.”

         “That’s not—”

         “No,” Claire cut him off.  “The first time one of these heroes crashed into my life, I started paying more attention to people like you.  I realized something about you in particular, Mr. Stark: the problems you fix all have to do with you personally.  Some of them, like the murder-bot that took out an entire country, are your personal doing.  The people I help, they fight to protect their city, complete strangers.  The only person you fight for is yourself.”

         Tony flinched at the sound of the familiar words.  “I was a little busy at the time,” he told her through clenched teeth.

         “Yeah,” Claire nodded.  “I know you were having some sort of throw down with your super friends in Germany.  I’ve seen the footage on YouTube.  You took a kid into that fight.  He was what?  Fifteen?”

         “You don’t get to judge me,” Tony told her angrily.

         Claire folded her arms across her chest.  “You need to remember those words, Mr. Stark.”

         The door opened and turned to see three hooded figures walking in the door.  Luke Cage was bigger than he appeared on computer screens.  Danny Rand would have looked as young as Peter if not for the dirty blond scruff on his face.

         “Hey, Mr. Stark, you didn’t—”

         “Why is your aunt calling Happy about where you are?”

         “Uh…well, she kind of found out, and, well, I keep sneaking out, but she’s probably gotten into my phone or something.”

         “Your suit’s out of commission, so no going out at all for the foreseeable future,” Tony told him, grabbing the suit from the table and shoving it into Peter’s hands.

         “You’re ‘grounding’ him?”

         Tony eyed the younger man that had spoken to him.  “Sixteen years, and you still sound like a spoiled brat.”

         “Sixteen years and you’re still an asshole,” Danny replied, smiling. “And I’m not getting grounded for saying that to your face this time.”

         Tony rolled his eyes.  “Happy will be around to pick you up in a few minutes.  I’ll be in touch.  With all of you actually.  As enhanced individuals, you all need to sign the Sokovia Accords,” he said, smirking as he moved toward the door.

         “Hey, I’m really just a nurse,” Claire interjected, her hands up.

         “Wait, _I’ve_ never actually signed the Accords,” Peter pointed out, his forehead creasing in confusion.

         Luke Cage shook his head and folded his arms across his chest, a knowing smirk crossing his face.  “How old are you, kid?” he asked, his gaze never leaving Tony’s face.

         “Sixteen,” Peter muttered.

         “Still a minor,” Luke said.  “Loopholes are great, aren’t they, Mr. Stark?”

         The tone of Luke Cage’s voice didn’t hurt nearly as much as the look Peter gave Tony.  The teenager looked genuinely betrayed.

         “You don’t need to worry about the Sokovia Accords, Luke,” Danny’s voice broke through the hazy moment.  “I’ve had Foggy Nelson looking into the constitutionality of the Accords.  Most people with abilities had those abilities forced on them.  You can’t again force them to give up their right to privacy and become agents of an international government body.  The Accords haven’t been challenged yet in open court.  They’re about to be.  Be honest, Tony, that’s got to be some sort of relief to you.  You never did like being told what you should do.”

         Something started to boil in Tony’s blood.  The combination of Cap’s words coming out of a stranger’s mouth and Peter’s look of hurt and betrayal were too much when coupled with a challenge from the likes of Danny Rand.

         “You don’t know a damned thing about me, you little shit.”

         The smile instantly faded from Danny’s face.  An almost sinister mask of calm slid into place and his right fist began to glow as he raised it to strike.  Tony instinctively stepped back and Luke rushed to grab the younger man’s right arm, knocking Peter out of the way in the process.

         “What the hell?”

         “Hey!  We are not having an Iron Man versus Iron Fist showdown in my living room!” Claire told them in no uncertain terms.

         “Iron Fist?” Tony scoffed.  “You have this this power _forced_ on you, Danny-Boy?”

         Danny started to lunge toward Tony and Luke forcibly pushed his friend back toward the couch.

         “You are _not_ doing this right here, man,” Luke said to the younger man before turning back toward Tony.  “Danny got the fist from punching a dragon in the heart, and if you don’t get out of here right damn now, I’m gonna let him punch you in the face.”

         “You seriously don’t understand the bigger picture here,” Tony told them.

         “No, we don’t,” Luke agreed.  “We see the suffering of our neighbors, and that’s a big enough picture for us.”

         Tony looked over at Peter, who was looking down at the floor with a scowl on his face.  “We’ll talk about your suit tomorrow.”

         “Yeah, sure,” Peter replied with a shrug.

         Tony turned on his heel and walked out of the apartment and into the hall, his fist continually clenching and unclenching.  Despite the fact that what had just happened should have been a victory—Peter was alive and well and the suit was easily replaceable—Tony felt defeated.  He knew what was coming for them.  He worried about it.  He prepared for it.  But what was he missing in the mean time?  How much suffering had been going on just uptown from Avengers Tower?

         He put it out of his mind as he stepped into his suit and headed back upstate.  He had been telling them the truth.  There was a bigger picture they weren’t seeing, and he was the only one left to really deal with it.


End file.
